The Monster of King's Landing
by Cybertramon001
Summary: Many people thought of Lord Petyr Baelish as a strange and terrifying man. He was willing to do anything to gain power over others. Indeed, The spymaster Varys believed that he would make a kingdom of fire and ash if it mean he would rule. But what no one knew was that it was not fire he wanted. But a kingdom of flesh and monsters. Rated M for violence and lots of death. Oneshot.


Hear me, dear readers. For I am one of the last survivors of The Known World. Perhaps this tale will be passed by other survivors, until it reaches the ears of people we never knew existed. People who can find a way to combat this evil we face. I highly doubt it. Nothing can stop the monsters. But even if there is a slightest chance, no matter how unlikely, I must take it. To do otherwise is to surrender.

And who knows. I might be wrong. Perhaps someone will find a way.

* * *

Our story begins in Westeros, a land of pale men and of honour and knights and kings. It began in the heart of the lands, in the city known as King's Landing. There, a king has ruled over Westeros since the time of Aegon the Conqueror, who rode forth on dragons and brought all of the lands together as one. Inside the massive fortress called the Red Keep, sits his throne. The Iron Throne. Forged from the swords of Aegon's enemies with dragonfire. Whoever sits upon the Throne, rules over all the Seven Kingdoms, who in turn swear fealty to him and him above all.

At the time of our story, great upheaval has stricken the land. The last of Aegon's lineage, The Mad King Aerys, had been struck down by one of his guard, Jamie Lannister, during a revolution. The leader of the revolution, Robert Baratheon, lay claim to the Throne. Through his advisors, he led the lands through 17 years of peace and order. But his heart was heavy, for he lost the one reason he truly started his Rebellion. Lyanna Stark, the true love of his life, was taken by Aery's son, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, and was found dead at the end. He instead married Cersei Lannister, daughter of the richest house in Westeros, and sister to Jamie. No one truly knows what happened after that, in the 17 years he ruled. But his Hand, Lord Jon Arryn, was found dead one morning. And so he went to his oldest friend, a man who was more a brother to him than his real brothers. Lord Eddard Stark, brother to Lyanna.

Eddard agreed to become the Hand of the King, helping lead the land while Robert ate, drank and fucked all day long. I imagine he was mainly trying to fill the void Lyanna left. Certainly his wife was no use. And mere months later, he was killed by a boar whilst out hunting and drunk. Later that day, his son Joffrey was crowned king, Lord Stark was arrested for treason to the crown, and the entire household he brought to King's Landing was slaughtered. With the exception of his daughters, Sansa and Arya. The former was to become Queen, while the latter escaped. These acts lead to his House beginning a rebellion against the Lannisters to free them. Eddard later confessed to his crimes, though now I believe them to be false and merely said to save his family. Most likely, he would've been stripped of his position and sent to the Wall to fight against the monsters of old. But King Joffrey ordered him executed, starting a true rebellion against all the Houses that still swore fealty to the Iron Throne.

A shame really. Perhaps if Eddard lived, we might've thought of this menace. On the other hand, he was the first to fall the machinations of the Evil.

At the same time the North rebelled, Robert's brothers, Stannis and Renly, began their own quests to claim the Throne. And the land found out why the Starks were put to the sword. Joffrey was the bastard child of Cersei and Jamie. Anyone who looked at our history, and the history of the incestuous Targaryens, would know that they created a monster. But it took years before they finally saw the truth. And in that time, much changed throughout the lands. Renly was murdered, by a female knight his men said. His men joined his older brother, as was what they should've done to begin with. Stannis lead a siege on Kings Landing, only falling when the House of Tyrell attacked them from behind. And as for the Rebellion of the North, well. That was truly disgusting.

It was led by Eddard's oldest, Robb Stark, known as the King of the North. He was a brilliant tactician, managing to out-maneuverer and capture Jamie Lannister. But tragedy struck, as Theon Greyjoy, once seen as Robb's brother through upbringing, betrayed him and took the Stark home Winterfell by sword. Many men that followed Robb faltered. For what good is a king if he cannot even keep his own castle? Tragedy struck again, though at a much slower pace. He had agreed to an arranged marriage with a daughter of 'The Late' Walder Frey in order to have his army cross the Twins. But he later found true love, in a young lady by the name of Talisa. They wedded in secret, but soon all knew of the betrayal. To pay grievances, his uncle agreed to the marriage instead, and they returned to The Twins for the wedding. Walder acted as cheerful as the old bastard could be, but it was all a trap. He defiled the most sacred of traditions, of the laws of Hospitality, to get revenge for the insult. His men slaughtered Robb Stark, his wife, his mother, and nearly all his men in a single night.

I hope the monsters made him suffer.

The Iron Throne was safe. Any and all threats to it were either allied to the Lannisters, in their pocket, or dead. But they soon found a rat in their midst. A slimy individual by the name of Petyr Baelish. He was brought to the Throne to answer for his devious acts.

And that, is when the true horror began.

* * *

"So." King Joffrey said, looking as smug as can be. "I bet you think you were so clever." Lord Baelish said nothing. "Every action that has happened in the past few years. Every misfortune, every battle, every act of unrest, you have been expanding your power. Rising above your station. But I saw through your feeble attempts to claim my throne." Everyone in the room looked away in embarrassment. They all knew that Tyrion Lannister, 'The Imp', had been the one to uncover it. With the help of the Spymaster Varys. "And now here you stand. In chains, with your whorehouse burning, your lands and properties seized, your men killed and your coin lacking. Whilst I am strong in every way, victor of our 'battle', and still sitting upon the throne." Once again, Baelish did not speak. Everyone was getting nervous, with the exception of the deluded king. Petyr wasn't shocked, angry, or terrified as any man would be. He simply seemed bored, as though he was waiting for the act to end in a play.

Of course, Varys and Tyrion, being the intelligent men they were (or Dwarf and Eunuch, if you want to get technical), had already arranged for ways out of the Keep and city.

"Very well then." Joffrey finally said after a lengthy pause. "Just as well you remain silent. I care not for your excuses. Kingsguard," He ordered his loyal guards. "Have him beheaded right here. I want to see his blood flow." One knight in gold armour nodded, drawing his sword as he stepped towards the waiting prisoner. Baelish still did nothing, chained as he was, even as the sword swung down upon his neck.

Until he held the blade in his hand, chains clattering as they broke and the steel not even marking him. The Kingsguard tried to pull his blade free, but it was as if it were trapped in stone. As everyone present reacted in shock, he finally gave Joffrey a ravenous, hungry grin, filled with far too many pointy teeth. Everyone watched in horror as black-and-red tendrils slithered up and down his arm, making his flesh black and spiky. His hand was now adorned with lethal claws as long as the sword they held, while the tendrils went along the rest of his body and over his clothes. Soon, he was dressed in more black, spiky armour, with no holes for his joints. His head shook as it became covered in a featureless mask, smooth save for various pockmarks. He shattered the blade in is grip, while more tendrils shot out and impaled the knight through his armour. He shook as the tendrils lifted him, his flesh disappearing as he seemingly shrunk. In mere seconds, his empty armour clattered to the ground, unmarked save for the tiny holes of the tendrils. Baelish shook his head once, as if dislodging an annoying fly.

Then everyone screamed as he exploded into a wave of tendrils.

They lost all form of decency, clawing over each other to be the first to escape the monster. Many were pulled back into the mass, their screams cut-off in moments. Joffrey himself was more holes than boy, his mother screaming until she too was silenced. The monster's claws shredded through armour and walls like a knife through butter, leaving screaming corpses everywhere.

Once everyone had been slaughtered or chased away, the mass of tendrils reformed into the monster, it walked forward until it was directly in front of the Iron Throne. He flicked away Joffrey's corpse, so that it shattered against a wall, then sat down in his place. The Throne creaked as it took the weight of Baelish.

And the halls echoed with the chuckles of Alex Mercer.

* * *

"I can't believe that fool messenger messed thing up so much." Tywin Lannister, head of the Lannister House, grumbled as he sat in a caravan. "I ordered him to get me a caravan of my own."

"Believe me, father," Tyrion replied. "Spending the rest of this trip with you is not my idea of fun either. But there weren't a lot of choices, my squire told me." He nodded back at the stream of townsfolk fleeing the burning city. "And at least we're doing better than they are."

"I imagine many are being killed over a simple seat." Tyrion's mercenary, Bronn, called back from the front. "People have killed for far less reasons than survival."

"What I want to know is what the Seven Hells was Baelish?" Tywin said. "He was clearly no mere man, and I've never heard tale of monsters that could shatter a blade like that, short of the Walkers. Do you suppose he's something from beyond the Wall?"

"I don't know, my lord." Varys answered politely. "I have spent much time amongst books filled with tales and legends, but I have also never heard of such a creature. If I were a betting man…"

"Or a man at all." Bronn chimed in. Varys gave him a weary glance before continuing. "...Then Littlefinger might in fact be something never encountered before. And that makes him all the more dangerous."

"Well, we won't accomplish anything just sitting here guessing." Tywin said. "We need a plan of attack."

"How about we go back home, and gorge ourselves on whores?" Tyrion replied. Tywin gave him a glare of anger.

"Or we could unite with Stannis to reclaim King's Landing."

"You're joking. He hates us. We took his 'rightful' throne from him, and dealt him a momentous defeat. He'd sooner gut us than agree to work with us."

"You forget, Tyrion, that Stannis is a commander first, and a Usurper second. He would know as much as we do that one can't be king if a monster holds the throne. We unite everyone, take back King's Landing, and put Tommen on the throne."

"I doubt Stannis will agree to that."

"He won't have to. He'll suffer from a grievous death at the hands of Baelish, and his men will either fall with him, or bow down to the rightful king."

"And if he survives?"

"He won't. Baelish will kill him, alive or dead." Tyrion thought about it for a moment, but he couldn't find any massive flaws in the plan.

He just hoped that they would survive step one.

* * *

"Your Highness." A guard shouted as he ran into the main chamber of Dragonstone. Though Stannis Baratheon did not sit upon the Iron Throne, he still saw himself as the rightful heir to it, and named himself king in accordance. "Your Highness, I bring news from the gates."

"Yes, yes. What is it?" Stannis barked. He was general, not a politician, and hated small talk. It had no place in his keep.

"A caravan has just pulled up to the gates, carrying Tywin Lannister, Lady Sansa Stark, and 'The Imp'."

"That's **Lord** Tywin, and Lord Tyrion Lannister." He corrected the guard, though he was intrigued. Tywin was no fool, that much was obvious from the defeat of Blackwater. He would never ride up to the gates of an enemy without an army, especially one that would gladly behead him.

"He is a heathen, my Lord." His wife, Selyse said. "He tried to take the Throne from you and from the Lord of Light in turn. We should cleanse him in fire immediately." He could see his priestess, Melisandre, nodding at this suggestion.

"I would advise against it, your Highness." His Hand, Davos Seaworth retorted. He was a good and loyal man. When Dragonstone was under siege and nearly starving, he managed to smuggle in an entire boat full of foodstuff to them. His act allowed them all to survive until help arrived to aid them. For his great deed, Stannis made him a noble. For his crimes, however, he severed the fingertips of his right hand. But Davos himself agreed with the deed. Now, he was forever loyal to Stannis. "Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms know that you'd behead the Lannisters as soon as look at them. He would never arrive here unless things were desperate in King's Landing."

Davos had a point. That was the same conclusion Stannis had come to as well. But he also knew that Tywin would be perfectly willing to stab him in the back as soon as he could get away with it. "Is there anyone else with them?" He asked the guard.

"Just a knight, a squire, a whore, and the Spider." Now that was interesting. The knight and squire were obvious. Only a fool travels without a guard. Admittedly, someone like Tywin would have far more men. The whore was also understandable. Tyrion Lannister was a notorious womanizer. But the Master of Whisperers never left the Red Keep anymore. Something must be _very_ wrong back in King's Landing.

"Disarm them, all of them." Stannis ordered. "They are protected by the Laws of Hospitality while they are within these walls. But I still want the guard to keep a close eye on the lot of them."

Time to see what Tywin found so worrying that he'd meet up with an enemy.

* * *

When the group from King's Landing entered the main hall, they certainly appeared ragged in both appearance and demeanour. Their clothes were mostly unsuited for travelling, with Lady Stark still in a fine, if frayed, dress of the court. Likewise Lord Varys was wearing clothes too fine to be covered in mud. Furthermore, they were all staring at the food with envy, leaving Stannis no uncertainty that if it was not for their standing, they'd be already falling upon the table like rabid dogs. Interesting.

"We thank you, oh Master of Dragonstone, for your valued hospitality." Tyrion began saying. "Truly you are merciful, to have…"

"Enough." Stannis interrupted him. "I'm not in the mood for small-talk. With the exception of Lady Stark, all of you had a part in defying my rightful place as king. Tell me what King Joffrey wants with me, eat your fill, and then get out. Before I have you removed from the safety of my keep, where anything can happen."

"Very well then. We are not here on matters for the King, on account that last we saw him Petyr Baelish stabbed him with more holes than a block of cheese. He has taken over the Red keep, and through it King's Landing."

Stannis snorted. "You're telling me that with all the Kingsguard, all the city guard, and his family very close by, Lord Baelish still managed to assassinate Joffrey? Did he finally have more gold than 'the richest House in Westeros?" All the guard started laughing at them for their incompetence.

"No, your Highness." Tyrion continued after they had their fun. "Did I mention that Littlefinger turned out to be some strange monster that could break steel with his bare hand and had tendrils that could run a man through?" Everyone stopped laughing, and the room became deathly quiet. "And there's also the fact that he turns people into some sort of liquid, so that he ma slurp it up. Everything we threw at him just seemed to do nothing at all. At least, I don't they did anything. We were, after all, a bit occupied with running for our lives. But we do know this. All of King's Landing was right on our tail when we left. They were practically killing each other for a single cart."

"And as long as Baelish sits on the Iron Throne," Tywin continued. "None will take it from him. Unless we work together."

"You are proposing an alliance?" Stannis asked.

"I am. Through Lord Roose Bolton the Lannisters control The North. Lord Walder Frey controls The Riverlands and is loyal to me. House Tyrell has sworn fealty to us through their daughter Margaery Tyrell, so that's The Reach. And you control The Stormlands while we have The Westerlands. With our might combined, we could slay Baelish, take back The Crownlands, and then we can get back to choosing who takes the Throne." Stannis had a deep thought about what he had been told. It is true that the Lannisters control most of Westeros. If they still wanted his forces, weakened as they were, then things must be desperate. The only lands not swearing fealty to either of them were The Vale, focusing more on protecting the young lord Robyn Arryn, the Iron Islands, who refuse to be anything less than King, and Dorne, who had a hatred for Lannisters. But 5 of the kingdoms was still enough to crush a sitting duck, even if the duck was King's Landing. However…

"Why should I help you?" Stannis asked. "Everyone in this room knows that you most likely intend to betray me and my bannermen after Baelish is dead, and claim the throne for yourself."

"And I would think less of you if you didn't expect that." Tywin replied. "But you also know that I speak the truth about Baelish. My current plans were to win against him and make more plans after I see where the pieces fall." Stannis harrumphed a few times, but Tywin had a point again. For all he knew, this fight against Baelish would weaken his enemies enough for one fell swoop, or kill them outright. He looked to his Hand and his Priestess, who both nodded in support.

"Very well." He said after much deliberating. "I accept your alliance, to last until the day after we emerge victorious against Lord Petyr Baelish." No one had to say it. No one had to mention what would happen if they lost.

Everyone was certain that they wouldn't be doing much of anything if they failed.

* * *

Getting the other houses to unite with them was… difficult at best. While House Tyrell agreed to the alliance, having been present when Baelish attacked, Houses Bolton and Frey were proving unwilling. Frey never fought a fight he wasn't certain would be victorious, while Bolton believed that Baelish would be no threat to The North. Only Stannis managed to get all his allies to unite with ease. Part of being a very good commander, Tywin supposed. But everyone looked up and listened when word got to them on what was happening to the Heartlands.

They had been completely ravaged, right down to the borders and possibly beyond.

This was the straw that broke Frey's stubbornness. Tywin convinced him that if all of them united couldn't beat Baelish and his black magic, then Frey wouldn't survive on his own. And so, everyone that could fight united together, fighting their way through the remains of the kingdom. They encountered several strange monsters along the way. Men and women now deformed, with pulsating limbs and malformed faces. They showed no strategy whatsoever, merely charging straight for anything that wasn't them. But they were fast, and stronger than any normal man. But the men were heartened by their victories over the lesser fools. And having the greatest knights in the land with them was a momentous boon. And soon they were all together before the gates of King's Landing.

It had changed so much in the weeks it took to unite everyone. The once-proud stone, murals and walls were now covered in massive fleshy growths, as though some sort of parasite was growing upon them. Towers made of bone and flesh peered over the walls, eyes flitting to-and-fro. And the Red Keep was unrecognisable, now with a massive bulbous orb where it once stood. As the men marched towards the gates and the generals plotted their course, the gates started opening with a loud squelching noise. The archers nocked their bows, while those with shields took to the front and stabbed the edge into the ground. Everyone prepped their weapons, chanted prayers to their gods, and waited.

They were not there for long.

A wave of loud, inhuman screeches and roars shook the ground as an army of monsters charged towards them. They were the same creatures as they fought before. But there were so many more of them now. Hundreds upon hundreds. It was like watching a flood of blood rushing straight towards them. The less experienced soldiers started trembling from the sight of it, some even seeing the family and friends they left behind. But Stannis wasn't having any of that. Allies become enemies became friends in moments in this realm.

"Archers, fire!" He commanded, watching as a rain of arrows arced down towards the horde. Most of them struck true, landing in vital areas that would kill a normal man. But they had already seen these thing shrug off such injuries. The key was to hit them with enough damage to stop them for good. He shouted again, and another wave of arrows landed. And another. They got in three good shots before the horde was too close. Now all they could do was use their swords.

The horde slammed into the shields with bone-breaking force. Indeed, several of them lost limbs from the impact, and some of the soldiers were nearly bowled over by them. But any monsters that got past were instantly sliced too much to do any damage. Those bowled over managed to get back up in time to retaliate. But some were too slow, getting their heads ripped off as the monsters found weak points in their armour. Those on the sides charged in, attempting to box them in and leave them in a kill area. The monsters shrieked in anger as they kept charging and charging. But his men managed to repel them, aided as they were by the legendary knights. Ser Bronn, Ser Jamie, Ser Gregor, Ser Loras, and Ser Brienne. Stannis wasn't too sure about a lady knight, but she proved competent enough, so he let her join. At this rate, they were going to win.

But then the enemy unleashed their _real_ monsters.

A large beast flew through the battlefield, leaving screaming men in its wake. Stannis saw it past by in a flash, trailing half a man behind it. It stopped by slamming on top of several soldiers, squashing them flat under its weight. Now everyone could get a good look at it.

It looked like the bastard child of a human and a dog, standing on four legs but with the head of a human. Large growths glowed on its skin, while it had the jaws filled with sharp teeth. He could only watch as it picked up a knight and bit clean through his armour. Everyone started panicking until Ser Gregor charged towards it and sliced its head off with his greatsword. The body turned and slashed for a few moments before falling to the ground dead. But it was long enough for more of the 'walkers' to gain ground. Sers Loras and Bronn carved their way through the numbers to rally the men, but more of the large beasts were climbing over the walls. They united as many soldiers as they could, leaving those who were too panicked to follow orders act as bait. They charged en mass again, slicing their way through the monsters. They got blindsided by the speed of the dog monsters, but the skill of the knights allowed them to stab them enough times for them to fall. They were almost a third of the way through when something else stepped out through the gate.

Baelish. Wearing his black armour.

He jumped up high, higher than the birds, before slamming down into the ground hard enough to throw the men around him flying. Before they even hit the ground again, Baelish charged the head of the group with a large shield for an arm. They yelled in pain as he battered his way through, smashing bones and cracking armour while sending men flying again. With their momentum ruined and their formation in shambles, they were easy pickings for the monsters. Ser Loras moved quickly, slicing a path through, but Baelish was faster and sliced him with a blade as big as him. His tendrils grabbed Loras' remains, drawing them into himself. While he was busy with that, Ser Brienne sliced his head off. Her blade shattered under the blow, but his head was sent flying into the crowd. Baelish lashed out at her, but she had already backed away, disappearing into the fighting. Then Ser Gregor charged in and smashed Baelish under his massive blade, knocking him down before cleaving him in half. But Baelish's remains grew spikes, punching through Gregor's armour. As he fell on top of Baelish, choking on his own blood. The Tendrils wrapped around him until the air was rent by the cracking of his armour.

"Retreat!" Stannis yelled the order, seeing that the battle was a lost cause. Only a third of their men were still alive, and those who were left were panicking and deserting. They were going to lose, and they hadn't even reached the gates. As the men started charging backwards, more of the monsters killed them, rising up from piles of corpses. As Stannis looked back at the battlefield, he saw Baelish standing again, now the size of Gregor. He looked at Stannis, and the King knew that he was coming for them. But Dragonstone had held off an army before and it will do so again.

But then again, he never willingly ran from a fight before. At least not like this.

* * *

Sansa prayed for salvation from Petyr. Like all…**most** women, she was safe in the keep of Dragonstone. The men had arranged barricades and gates on every possible entrance. The monsters were at their doors, but none have made it inside. They were only a threat when en masse. Against one on one, they were easy for the archers and knights to kill. As she sat in her room, praying and praying, she was interrupted by the sound of fighting. You'd think she would be used to it by now, but this fighting was much closer. In fact, it sounded as though it was _inside_ the keep.

"My lady." Brienne yelled as she barged into the room covered in blood. "We need to leave."

"Why?" Sansa asked as she grabbed a few essentials. "What's happened?"

"The monsters somehow made a way into the lower levels of the Keep. We can't hold them off from two fronts. I promised your mother I would get you to safety, and I _will_ fulfil my promise even if I die doing so." She dragged Sansa after her, sword out and ready to strike any enemy. They ran round a corner, and Sansa saw her first look of the monsters.

They were all hideous, like Wights and flayed men. They screeched and mauled and _ate_ people even while they were alive. Large dog creatures tore their way through knights with ease, the defenders terrified beyond rational thought. She saw Jamie atop the largest beast, slicing through its neck until the whole thing fell off. His armour was dented and bloody, and his entire right arm was lost. He collapsed to the ground, but she saw him grab a dagger and slit his throat before the monsters swarmed him.

And then they were running again, heading away from the fighting. They were about to turn around another corner when Brienne pushed her back. She heard something big stomp down the hallway they would've run into, getting closer and closer. It stopped and sniffed the air, causing Sansa to stop breathing in case it heard her. It sniffed again, before roaring and smashing something. They heard people yell before they were stopped with loud squishing noises. Then the monster stomped down another hallway. As they rush past, she looked back to see a massive, fat, two-legged monster that barely fit in the hall, with two massive stone-like fists. They reached an old wharf under the castle, Brienne slicing away at the ropes before pushing them off. She started rowing, going strong until they were far away from the castle. They looked back to see the keep burning, smoke billowing out the windows. Monsters were swarming away from it, joining up with a massive army. "Baelish sent all his forces?" She asked, sobbing.

"Most likely." Brienne answered. "From the little reports we got, there's no one left alive in his lands, nothing left to claim. He doesn't need to defend his lands, because no one wants them anymore."

Sansa thought of all the men that Baelish had killed. How he betrayed her father, her family, the people she trusted. She thought of Tyrion, her husband and a kind man.

She couldn't stop herself. She sobbed until she could cry no more.

Dragonstone has fallen.

* * *

It took several days before they reached the Vale. They landed the boat not too far from Dragonstone, before stealing horses and riding the rest of the way. They found a large line of people trying to enter, shouting for help. The guards were indifferent. In fact, some shot people who were trying to break in. Brienne and Sansa battled their way to the front of the group, earning hisses from people that recognised Sansa's dress as noble while the men leered at her.

"I already told you people." The guard at the gate shouted at them. "No one is getting in. We're full enough as it is. We've even had to put people in the sky cells we're so fit to bursting. Now clear off."

"So Lady Arryn wouldn't make room for her niece Sansa Stark?" Brienne shouted back. Everyone stopped arguing as they heard her name, and the guards looked confused. The man at the gate spoke to someone, and word was most likely getting to her aunt. "When they let us in, everyone behind us will try to squeeze past." She whispered to Sansa. "When they open the gate, run straight in as fast as you can. Ignore everything else, just get to safety." Sansa nodded, as the commoners behind her started getting rowdy again. The guard at the gate spoke to someone again, and nodded to the archers. Everyone went ballistic as the grinding of the gates echoed through the air, and Brienne slapped Sansa's horse to send her running. The archers fired arrow after arrow as Sansa heard the yell of the crowd behind her. Fortunately, she and Brienne made it inside before the gate was closed behind them, crushing people between their heavy weight. A guard met them on horseback, escorting them along the path to the Eyrie. She could still hear the screaming of the villagers as they died.

She prayed that she wouldn't be hearing the cries of the monsters next.

* * *

The guard trembled at the sight of the monsters, even though they were safe behind the Bloody Gate. No enemy has ever made it through to the Eyrie, and today won't be any different. But it still didn't stop them from having nightmares as they heard the villagers getting torn apart and rising as more monsters. They smashed themselves against the gate until they were nothing more than bloody stains, but the gate didn't budge. They were confident that they could last until they grew tired of fighting.

But for the past half hour, several groups of monsters pulled away and grouped elsewhere, a strange coating wrapping around them. It quivered and grew in size as the monsters kept jumping on top of them. The archers were ready for anything. The sacs exploded, revealing massive dog monsters and fat creatures with large hands. They rushed at the gate, heedless of the arrows, and slammed into it at full speed. The gate creaked worryingly as they started pounding it again and again, ignoring all the arrows that imbedded themselves in them. But eventually the archers managed to wound them enough to drive them away. They cheered as they won again, until the ground started trembling violently. They wondered what was happening, when something big charged out of the ground and_ through_ the gate. The men ready on the other side were crushed as it landed on them and burrowed back through the ground. The survivors yelled as monsters streamed through the opening, slicing and tearing apart anyone that got within range. Anyone left ran for it, but the Knight of the Gate stayed to the bitter end. None have deserted their post before, and he won't be the first.

The monsters scrambled over his decimated corpse, chasing after the deserters.

* * *

Sansa smiled as she hugged her sister, Arya. The last time either of them had seen each other was the day King Robert died and Joffrey had their father killed. They wept for the rest of their family, who were killed by people they thought were their allies. Theon Greyjoy, a man who had been part of their family since they were children, killed and immolated Bran and Rickon. And Walder Frey was part of the murder of their mother and brother. Only Jon was left, and he was a bastard child sworn into the Night's Watch. But now they had each other again. They apologised for words and actions that they feared they would never get a chance to speak about. They didn't care about how Sansa tried to justify Joffrey's murderous behaviour, or of Arya throwing food at Sansa when The Crown arrived at Winterfell. They were just happy that they were together again.

"They've breached the Bloody Gates!" The soldier screamed as he came charging into the hall. Everyone stopped talking as he said that. "They used some kind of giant worm to smash the gates open, and are charging along the path as we speak."

"The archers will take care of them." Lady Lysa Arryn said calmly as her son Robyn suckled on her breast. "They have always dealt with invaders."

"With all due respect, Milady. Before a wall-placed arrow could kill any man. But these monsters can take dozens of arrows before falling." Everyone trembled as he said that. While the Eyrie was impenetrable, it's very defences meant that it was a sitting duck if an enemy got through. If the knights couldn't rout the charge, then they were trapped. Some insane souls opened the moon doors wide, most likely planning to jump to their death if need be. They could hear the faint sounds of men clashing and monsters roaring. Some people started drinking, thinking that the guards would deal with the beasts. But Sansa knew what may happen. She and Arya met gazes, and Arya pulled out her sword, Needle. They would not be taken alive by the monsters. Never.

Everyone twitched as they heard screaming, this time much closer than before. The sounds grew fainter, then louder and closer. The knights drew their swords and faced the door, ready to kill anyone that entered. The doors shook as they were pounded again and again. The sky cells. That must be how the monsters got in. They did not seem to care about heights or danger or death. They only cared about killing more people. As some people threw themselves out the Moon door, Sansa nodded to Arya. Her last thought was how saddened she looked as she was forced to slit her own sister's throat. The knights shouted at the door fractured under the blows, large-fisted monsters stumbling through. Brienne was one of the first in battle, and managed to slice an arm off before being punched across the room. As her crushed corpse fell behind Lysa's throne, Arya grabbed Sansa's body and dragged her to the Moon doors. She threw her in them, before slicing her own throat as she fell after her. The last thing she saw was a monster jumping down after them.

The Eyrie had fallen.

* * *

With their strongest enemies fallen, it didn't take Baelish's forces long to spread throughout Westeros. Frey seemed to believe that his defences would protect him, but the monsters attacked from both sides of the river and even from the heart. Besieged on four sides, Frey's forces fell with ease before the monsters continued to the north. House Bolton was the next to go, ironically being killed when the monsters sneaked in through their dungeons. The Iron islands were left alone for now, as the monsters seemed to dislike water. Meanwhile, the rest headed down south, claiming the Reach, the Stormlands, and even Dorne who had held out against even dragons. With dragons they were rare, and when killed they stayed dead. But the monsters devoured their own dead and gave birth to new monsters. It was only a matter of attrition.

And while this was happening, several got as many boats as they could to sail to the neighbouring nation of Essos, to claim the land for themselves. Once they arrived, the attacked multiple villages and increased their numbers through the fallen. Their strength and changing skills meant that even the Dothraki fell before them. And eventually they made their way to the City of Meeran. For leading the city was Daenerys Targaryen , who had taken the city by sword and fire, and led with her dragons.

They desired to consume her dragons.

* * *

Daenerys looked upon the army marching ever closer to her city, her closest advisers with her. Jorah and Barristan looked on in worry, while her translator, Missandei, showed only terror. Only Grey Worm, leader of her Unsullied army, seemed untroubled by what was approaching. Perhaps being mistreated so much by the slave masters made him unafraid of dying.

"Even with the Unsullied, we don't stand a chance." Jorah told her bluntly. "From the reports we heard, all of Westeros couldn't beat them, and that was when they first began and only had King's Landing behind them. Now they have claimed most of Essos."

"And what else are we to do?" Barristan asked him. "They've surrounded us. There's nowhere left to go. And the dragons aren't big enough to ride on yet."

"If we focused our forces on one of the side gates, we could punch a hole through them long enough for you to escape, Khaleesi." Jorah said to her.

"I will not sacrifice my people to save my own skin." She replied hotly. "If what you say is true, then all that will accomplish is waiting for another day to die by their hands. I can't run while my men die for me."

"I would gladly give my life to protect you."

"I know you would. Both of you. But you are just two men in an army of thousands." She turned to Grey Worm. "I know that you and your men will give your lives if I order you to. But you are free men now. And so I ask you this. What will you and your men do?"

"…You gave us our freedom, Khaleesi." Grey Worm said after a moment of thought. "While others saw us a tools or weapons, you saw us a people. You gave us a choice to leave if we wished so, and we continued to serve you. You have given us hope and joy. We will give our lives to save you. Even if it fails, we will at least go from this world content that we did everything we could to save you." He bowed before her. "If you wish to live to fight another day, then will help you willingly."

Daenerys sighed as she saw his devotion. He was a good man. They were all good men. And though she hated it, they had a point. She could find some way to stop the monsters, perhaps a scroll speaking of them, or a spell that could kill all of them at once. Besides, most of her citizens were either monsters or had killed themselves. Right now, she, her council, and the Unsullied were the only living things left in Meeran. As she looked at the army again, she noticed her dragons flying overhead. The tallest monsters, giant worm creatures, were all watching them, firing tongues at them in hopes of catching them. The entire army turned back as the dragons flew away from them, before turning back when they flew behind the city walls. A plan came to mind. Not one she liked, but it was the best she had.

"Gather your men. I have a plan."

* * *

Daenerys and Missandei sat upon the fastest horses left in the city, waiting for the gates to open. As they sat there in suspense, they could hear the roars of her dragons as they began the attack. The gates opened wide as the Unsullied marched forth, with the two of them behind them. As the glare of the sun receded, she could see that her plan worked. The entire monster army was completely focused on her dragons, ignoring the now open gate. The unsullied sneaked up behind them, killing any infected that got near. They didn't even react to the death of their brethren, as the Unsullied pushed their way through. They kept going until they finally reached the edge of the army, splitting in half to let them through. Daenerys was about to kick her horse, when Drogon screamed. One of the monsters had impaled his wing, and the army charged at him as he fell. They jumped upon each other, biting and clawing at him as he burnt them in rage. The fire proved to be extremely effective, as they fell quickly and they didn't get back up. But their numbers were too large, and they smothered Drogon until he vanished. They then turned their attention to the other two dragons, as Jorah and Barristan pushed Daenerys forward. She gave her children one last heartfelt look, before riding away. Her Unsullied rushed back to the safety of the city, cutting down any monster that got in their way. As Viserion and Rhaegal fell, the monsters finally noticed the men in their midst. The Unsullied put their all in reaching the gates, the army rushing behind them. Those that fell behind turned to stave them off, lasting a while longer before falling. Almost all of the Unsullied made it through before the gates had to be closed to stop the monsters. Those who were locked outside quickly turned and fought, taking a dozen monsters each before falling. Daenerys cried as they rode away, hoping for some means of victory over them. As they headed for the horizon, she looked back to see one of th larger monsters grow in size, before wings erupted from its back. It roared in pride, shooting a beam of fire as it did so. The other monsters took small bites from its skin, before also growing wings and breathing fire.

They managed to get away with minimal loss of life. But she feared they also gave the monsters a new weapon.

* * *

Grey Worm hadn't been lying when he said that his men would give their lives for Daenerys. She was their sun and moon, their path to a better future. And though that future was now gone, it was of no fault of hers.

"Captain." One of the Unsullied said to him. "The monsters seem to have gain the power of the devoured dragons. They are preparing to fly over the wall."

"Then we will take as many of them with as we can. We will not cower like lambs." He started shouting. "We will not fall like wheat before a farmer. We are Unsullied. We have been forced to give up everything to be who we are. And we will make those demons fight and bleed to kill us. They will see, that we are true warriors. And their leaders will remember the Last Stand of Meeran!" The Unsullied cheered loudly at those words. "Men, ready yourselves!" They prepared their spears and arrows as the first of the demons flew over the walls. They were shot down with ease, crying out as they fell far below. And the next wave. And the next.

They couldn't stop this forever. But they will make them pay for every step they took.

* * *

It took a day of fighting before Meeran fell to the monsters. Half of their forces were slaughtered in the fight. But they got what they came for. A shipment of monsters was sent back to Westeros, where with their new power spreading through the army they overran the Iron Islands at last. Now, all they had left to do was to head beyond The Wall.

The Night's Watch was already running for the gates. Their defences were made under the impression that they were being attacked from the other side, so that rebellious leaders couldn't try and segregate The Wall from the Seven Kingdoms. They would never be a match for an army of monsters. Perhaps if they were fully staffed, and equipped, and the monsters were on the other side, the Night's Watch might've stood a chance for weeks. But they were not. And so they were forced to run for their lives.

At least the Wildlings got a nasty surprise when they reached then empty fort.

John Snow, bastard son of Eddard Stark, panted as he ran through the snow after his friend Samwell Tarly. Any able bodied men were forced to run, while those less fit were given horses to ride on. It may not amount to much, but they were all brothers in arms. They weren't going to leave men to those monsters. They were at least three days behind them, less if they were truly as fast as people said. They destroyed the tunnel through the wall to slow them down, but it wouldn't hold forever.

They ran, and ran, and ran some more. Those who were unable to continue due to cold or exhaustion were given a mercy kill, before being burned to deny any monsters or walkers. They kept at this until they finally reached the edge of the forest. And saw a chilling sight.

And army of Wights and Walkers approached them, looking ready for battle. They seemed immeasurable, stretching far into the distance. As many men gave up in horror, they were startled by shrieking behind them. Those who hadn't slit their throats in despair ran further away from the forest as the monsters ran out of it. Both sides stopped as they spied each other, a man with spikes on his head leading the Walkers, while Baelish led his monsters in his armour. They sized each other up for a moment, the remnants of the Watch caught between them. They roared and hissed and shook their weapons at each other, but their leaders said nothing. Then, they both placed one foot forward.

The armies charged at each other, with some of the monsters taking flight and breathing fire. Though they were slowed down by the cold, they were still going fast and strong. Giant worms, and dogs, and fat creatures charged before giant monsters with a massive arm. John and his friends could only stand and watch.

"Night gathers, and now my watch begins." Samwell started saying the oath. The others looked at him before joining in. "It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post." They were now shouting as the ground trembled before the approaching armies. "I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come."

And then the armies clashed against each other, the last members of the Night's Watch shouting in defiance.

* * *

No one knows what happened during that final fight. Perhaps the monsters succeeded over the White Walkers. Or perhaps the Walkers killed Baelish, and then marched onto his kingdoms. Or even perhaps that both armies killed each other in mutual death. But what we do know is that the main horde is still in Essos, and steadily marching East after Daenerys.

And so I write this story, for anyone that we meet along the way to finding a method of stopping them. I doubt we will last forever. But if even one person finds the answer, then we will have won against the darkness.

So here are the final words of Jorah Mormont, son of Jeor Mormont, also known as Jorah the Andal. May they be words of hope and glory.

**This took a while to write up. I had the idea ages ago, but I wasn't sure how to have the Infected kill off everyone. In fact, as we don't have a clue what's West of Essos, I've got no idea how to continue if anyone asks me to make more chapters. Plus, with most of the world dead you can't really do anything else.**

**Part of this was showing just how scary Mercer could be if he was evil. I mean, he can't die from normal means, he creates monsters that can adapt. If you don't know a thing about biology, then this guy is an Eldritch Abomination.**

**Hope you guys enjoyed this story.**


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